


i think i'd rather keep the bullet

by LadyVictory



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVictory/pseuds/LadyVictory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You catch each other’s eyes (hers are a shade of blue that remind you of cornflowers and robin’s eggs), sizing each other up, and there is something in her gaze that makes you sit up straighter than your normal careless slouch. </p><p>There is the usual jealousy and childish petulance, for sure, but also concern, lurking deep. </p><p>You are incredibly uncomfortable for a moment – that vulnerable but warm feeling of being carried in her arms rushing back to you – and it takes all of your self control not to squirm. </p><p>////</p><p>This came about from the following text I sent a friend:<br/>Imagine that moment when Laura tells Carmilla that Danny is dead, except ot3...</p><p>She responded back with: Nope.</p><p>So clearly, I had to do it. I feel better...</p>
            </blockquote>





	i think i'd rather keep the bullet

**Author's Note:**

> AN1: They aren't mine, I just sneak them out after dark and let them roam free. I make no dough tho...  
> AN2: Unbeta'd as all get out. Mah bad.  
> AN3: The title is a fragment of a line from the Richard Siken poem Wishbone from his collection CRUSH. Read it. It is good.  
> AN4: Working on the fluffy fic, but I had to lance the poison that were my intense emotions after viewing S2 episodes 35 & 36...  
> AN5: Julia was completely against this fic.

“Xena.”

“Fang face.”

You hate that you smile when she calls you this, hate that since you came back (since s _he brought you back_ ) there is a part of you that doesn’t want her dead or gone.

You catch each other’s eyes (hers are a shade of blue that remind you of cornflowers and robin’s eggs), sizing each other up, and there is something in her gaze that makes you sit up straighter than your normal careless slouch. 

There is the usual jealousy and childish petulance, for sure, but also concern, lurking deep. At first you think it’s for Laura – as if _she_ would do a better job of protecting the cream puff, you killed your own mother for her for fuck’s sake. But then, her eyes don’t flicker over to the other girl like they normally would. Instead they sweep over you, lingering over your torso (so non-sexual; you know lust, and lust isn’t looking at the spot on your ribs you both know were shattered by your long fall).

You are incredibly uncomfortable for a moment – that vulnerable but warm feeling of being carried in her arms rushing back to you – and it takes all of your self control not to squirm. She notices, cheeks coloring prettily, and looks away.

Interesting, you think, and file it away for later.

 

////

 

You watch through your sunglasses as the ginger giraffe sneaks into the house from your spot as a lump on the couch. She looks ridiculous, creeping through the living room like an overgrown cartoon character, and you can’t help but snort (the sound sends shards of pain through your skull, and you are more than a little bitter that even you – one of the elite creatures of the night – can be hung over).

Danny jumps a little and spins around to face you, one hand cradling something against her chest. There are purple smudges under her eyes, as if she hasn’t been sleeping, and dark bruises curling out of her shirt over her collar bones (her arms are covered by her disappointingly stereotypical plaid flannel, but you would bet there are nasty bruises there to), as if she has been fighting, and it’s all you can do to force yourself not to care.

“What do you want, beanstalk?” you ask, instead of what you really want to.

“Oh, uh, hey. Thought you’d be out… partying,” she says, eyes darting around the room. She doesn’t look guilty exactly, but definitely embarrassed.

“Laura’s not here, gingersnap,” you say gruffly, narrowing your eyes, sure that your brain is leaking out of your ears.

She blushes lightly. She’s been doing that a lot more around you lately, and you can’t help but find it appealing (you tell yourself it’s because the blood is closer to the surface, and you’re always so hungry nowadays).

Then it hits you. Blood. You smell blood. Fresh and rich and oh so close.

“I’m not here to see Laura,” Danny is saying, but you are distracted, nose flaring, fangs aching. “I just wanted to drop something off…”

“Are… where is that coming from?” You can’t help but rise and stalk closer, to the edge of the territory marked off as ‘your side’ of the room. “Did you bleed someone?”

You know it’s not Danny’s blood; you ignore that you know her scent well enough to tell, and what that could mean.

Danny sighs, impatient in the way that she is when she expects to be chastised. She uncurls her arm and reveals a full blood bag.

“It’s… it’s going to get very difficult for you soon.” She holds the bag out slowly, like a peace offering or a request for forgiveness. You fight the instinct to give either, raising an eyebrow at her instead. “This is… Just, take it Carmilla.”

“Oh ho, my name huh? What, is it poisoned?” you ask, sneering but snatching up the bag anyway. Even if you didn’t have preternatural senses to tell you it wasn’t, you know she would never. She is far to sickeningly noble to use poison, or fight anyone in anything less than a stand up fair fight, like some sort of white knight from a fairytale.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes and her shoulders, shedding some of the tension there.

“Takes one to know one,” you hum at her, grinning your most predatory grin, flashing sharp teeth. She inhales sharply at the sight, and you file _that_ away for later too.

“Not your best come back,” she notes, corner of her mouth turning up.

“You can go now,” you dismiss her, doing your best not to look at her lips, because you have enough angst and confusion in your life when it comes to young, idealistic girls and you refuse to add more.

“You’re welcome,” Danny chuckles, rolling her eyes again and turning away.

When she reaches the door, she stops and looks back at you, hand resting on the wood as if it is the only thing keeping her rooted to the spot.

“Just, be careful, okay? All of you. Don’t go and do anything too stupid.”

You wave her away like a fly buzzing too close and she huffs, shutting the door behind her a little more forcefully than strictly necessary.

 

////

 

It’s no Saigon, but the two of you are partying like the world is a ticking time bomb set to go off if you ever dare stop. The rush of the hunt and the freedom from someone else’s morality is sweet on your tongue.

You secretly promised no killing – you know that it is something that she would not forgive, and so you hold yourself to that one rule – but you never said you were not going to have fun, and it feels so good to have your sister with you again. She has been the only warm constant in your long, undead life, and you love her more than anyone.

(Except Ell, except Laura, but both of them are not yours anymore, and Mattie is here with you now, _again_ , and almost all is right with the world.)

The two of you laugh, cackling and leaning against each other’s shoulders as you watch the Baron’s stooges retreat. A part of you feels bad – it is almost too easy as you give chase – but you are angry and hurting and also the apex predator. It’s your birthright, in your blood, to do this, and damned if you stop yourself from following your natural born instincts.

The pain of the arrow smashes into your chest, and you can’t be sure if the horrified gasp you hear is yours or Mattie’s.

She screeches, dropping the Summers and Zetas with her voice, and hoists you into her arms bridal-style.

“Hold on, baby girl, hold on. You’re going to be fine.” You groan as she takes off running. “Ssshh, it’s okay darling, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

You lose consciousness as she leaps over the stunned pack of co-eds.

 

You are floating, confused.

You wake up. You pass out. You think you dream.

 

There are voices. There are familiar scents – cocoa and cookies (Laura) and blood and lipstick (Mattie) – and someone else…

The smell of earth, of the hunt…

“I just, I needed to see her. Make sure she was okay,” a subdued voice says.

“No thanks to you,” Mattie’s sharper one retorts, closer, between you and the other person.

“Please, Laura… I… You have to believe I had nothing to do with this.”

Danny. The other voice is Danny. You would recognize the way she says the cupcake’s name anywhere.

“I know, Danny, I believe you. She’s okay…” Laura tries to assure, but she sounds shaky herself.

You try to force your eyes open. You partially succeed.

A blurry Danny stands, facing off against Mattie, look of terrible guilt and a small amount of desperation on her face.

“Well, now you’ve seen. You can go now,” Mattie growls, voice vibrating dangerously.

The ginger giant winces, but stands her ground, hands balled into fists.

“Look, Danny, maybe this isn’t the best time for this?” Laura tries again, inserting herself between the glaring women. The little creampuff has so little common sense you can’t help but adore her.

Danny clenches her jaw tight, as angry and hurt as when Laura sent her away last semester. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and backs down, looking over at you once and nodding.

“Okay. All right. Fine. I just, I needed you to know.” It looks like she is speaking to Laura, but you know she is addressing you.

You nod back minutely, whole body screaming in protest.

Without another word, she turns and storms out of the house.

 

////

 

You hear them above you, Danny and Laura, their talk setting your teeth on edge. The red sasquatch’s infatuation with the smaller girl is pathetic (as pathetic as yours, for sure, though there is a certain smugness in you about the fact that your feelings are not unrequited).

When Laura offers Danny a bite of her apple, your fangs descend, insides hot and tight and sick with green eyed anger. When Danny declines, you feel no better.

When Laura kisses Danny, Mattie touches your hand and you realize you were going to break through the trap door. (She is your sister by Mother’s blood, but also your dearest friend, the one you have loved with unwavering loyalty for centuries, and you have no idea what you would do without her.) You realize idly that the sounds of post-teenage passion coming through the floor don’t actually make you feel worse, only tired and achy inside.

When Danny stops the kiss – you can hear them panting, smell the pheromones and longing they share – you cock your head to the side, confused.

“No, wait… we have to stop,” you hear Danny murmur, voice thick with want and regret.

“What’s wrong?” Laura asks, her voice small and lost and guilty.

Danny’s sigh is loud and short, and you imagine that she is running her hand over her hair, a nervous habit you noticed last semester when she was around a lot and there was that _thing_ between them (the thing that could have led to kissing and touching and the things Laura clearly still desires even now).

“This isn’t what you want, Laura.”

Even you have to roll your eyes at this obvious blunder.

“And who exactly gets to decide what I want?” the cupcake says, voice low and indignant, and you can’t help but grin.

“You do. But we _both_ know that this isn’t really what you want, and that it isn’t right. For _anyone_ involved.”

Laura groans in that way you know means she agrees but hates that she does.

You know she’s been lonely and heartbroken and run ragged since you ended, and that Danny has been here to pick up the pieces where you have failed. It would be oh so easy for the gingersnap to move in a stake a claim (you would have, like any good hunter). You kind of wish she would have, because it would make it a lot easier to call up the hate you are supposed to have for her.

“I’m sorry Danny, I just…”

“No worries, Hollis,” Danny says with a bark of laughter (the laughter is short and shaky and hurts to hear).

“Yes worries, Lawrence. I.. you…” Laura sighs, clearly annoyed with her inability to articulate. “We all deserve better than that.”

“No harm, no foul,” Danny insists, voice tight and a little high.

The lumbering giant doesn’t usually speak in clichés or stupid sports idioms, and you frown, displeased. You don’t like it one bit, and want to see her face, to know what is happening across her cheeks and with her mouth and in her eyes.

“The two of you are in a weird place. I get it.”

“No,” Laura insists, her own voice steady. “What I feel for Carmilla is real and deep and intense, obviously, but it is also completely separate from what I feel for you.”

“And what exactly is, uh, that?” Danny’s voice trembles, and you can picture exactly how she is avoiding eye contact and hunching her shoulders in on themselves.

You swallow hard, as invested in the answer as the walking redwood.

“I-”

“Actually, don’t. Don’t answer that. I have to go. They’ll, uh, they’ll be looking for me soon.”

“But you said they didn’t want you around?”

“Yeah, no, I did. And they don’t. But better not take the chance, or give them another excuse to go all SWAT raid in here. Those secret passages only work if they stay that way.”

You hear Danny push away from the desk and stomp quickly to the door. You hear it open.

“Danny?” Laura calls, and the taller girl’s footsteps hesitate.

“Yeah?”

Everyone in the crawlspace holds their breath.

“What I feel for Carmilla, it’s overwhelming and crazy and the most amazing thing I have ever felt. But. The thing is, what I feel for you? It may be separate, but it is just as powerful and overwhelming and amazing. I care about you, probably more than anyone not officially dating you should.”

“You chose, Hollis,” Danny whispers, and she has never sounded so small. “You chose her, and that’s fine. Well, I mean it hurts and it sucks and I wish it was me, but in the end I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. I mean, I was, before everything went all bizarro-world. But, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t, that I couldn’t have been happy with you.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, and Mattie strokes your arm. You lean into her shoulder, biting your lip with blunted teeth.

“You don’t get to fall back to me just because things didn’t work out. I’m no one’s consolation prize.”

Danny goes for angry (you know because you would), but falls woefully short, landing in heartbroken territory. You feel yourself sympathizing, wanting to maybe hold her eyes and nod and let her know you understand. You would never, of course, but a small part of you wants to.

“It’s not like that, and you know it.” Laura’s voice is patient and understanding and sets your teeth on edge. “Carmilla and I are complicated, and maybe not even over, but my feelings for you – your feelings for me – are not dependent on that.”

“And you would totally be saying these things if you were still together.” The redhead tries for angry again, and manages to make it to indignant and hurting. Much closer this time.

“Maybe not now. Things are kind of insane, what with the elder god and the evil corporation and the Baron being a total douche. But I think if I have one thing going for me it is my insistence on getting at the Truth. I could never hide this from her, even if it hurt her. I would never _do_ anything to purposefully hurt or betray her, but, I couldn’t live with myself if I pretended these feelings didn’t exist.”

“You don’t see how she looks at you, Hollis.” Danny sounds like she is begging. “I mean you do, but, not from the outside. She looks at you like she would burn down the world just for you. Which I guess she did – her world, anyway. She looks at you like she would die a hundred times just to keep you safe.”

“I see it Danny. I would do the same for her. But, I see you too. I see the way she is with you; like she can’t stand the sight of you, but can’t stand the sight of you leaving either. And yes, I see how you look at me – how you look at _us_ – when you think no one is watching.” The smell of Danny’s fear is so thick in the air it makes your fangs ache. “It’s kind of a similar expression, Lawrence. Like maybe you would lie to your Sisters and the Zetas and let me hide my vampire girlfriend and her family from them, not just because I want you to, but to keep her safe too…”

“I-I gotta go,” Danny manages to wheeze.

“Danny, no, look, it’s-” The door slams, the Amazon scurries away with her tail between her legs. “…okay.”

Laura groans, head thumping down on the desk. “Why is life so complicated?”

You don’t move, don’t breathe, panic a heavy stone on your chest.

She knows. The cupcake knows what you have studiously been ignoring and avoiding examining. She knows and she’s… encouraging it.

You don’t know whether to be enraged at the presumption or relieved that you can stop using so much mental energy to avoid your own desires.

“Well,” Mattie purrs, stretching out next to you and pulling you against her side. You relax immediately, curling up into her arms and inhaling her scent. “Things just got interesting.”

You bite back a groan, knowing she will be insufferable about this from now on.

 

////

 

The taste of Laura is still on your tongue when you wander to the back of the house and catch a whiff of… rich earth and bonfires and war paint. Danny.

She sits on the back porch, staring up at the night sky, a wistful, melancholy expression on her face. (You are quite familiar with the feeling that births it.) You step out onto the stairs, amused when she starts (though she doesn’t turn around, the fool, you could be anyone here to hurt her).

“Buffy,” you murmur, settling next to her.

“Elvira,” she replies, voice hollow and tired. You despise the sound of it immediately. She has no business sounding so fucking sad, not when you are torn apart inside.

Feeling reckless and hurt and full of bitter anger (and maybe something else that swirls in your chest when you look at her in particular), you move and straddle her lap. Her breath catches in her throat. You like the sound of that much better.

You kiss her without explanation, hard and hungry and a little sharp (you make sure to keep your fangs to yourself, though, because you never do that to a woman without asking unless there is no other choice). You kiss her like you want to destroy her for daring to have a chance with Laura when yours is ruined, like you hate her for not taking that chance, like you want to punish her for not being the bridge between you and your mutual love.

She kisses back with patience and understanding and acceptance, like she is determined to make everything okay again, starting with you.

At least you are even now. Everyone has kissed everyone.

You pull back, disgusted with both of you.

“You taste like her,” she sighs, lips shiny with the transfer of the cream puff’s lip gloss.

You feel sick to your stomach, but you cover it with a razor-edged smile.

“One could wonder why…” you all but hiss, but don’t move from her lap.

She looks at you sadly but cups your cheek with her long fingered hand. It is warm and fits perfectly against your jaw, and you fight not to move into it.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she assures, eyes wide and searching yours (for what, you are not sure).

She must find what she is looking for, because she kisses you again briefly, then pulls back. She’s wearing that look that Laura talked about, like she might just fight an army barehanded for you. It scares you, and you pull away.

She lets you go, face falling, but still understanding.

You both stand – you with your arms crossed stiffly in front of your chest, her with her arms curled around her stomach protectively. Your hands are fists, nails cutting into your flesh.

Danny nods once, sighing and looking back up at the stars.

“You should go back inside,” she says finally.

“And what about you?” you ask, because you can’t help yourself. You manage to sound bored in compensation.

She shrugs, jaw clenching hard for a moment. Bitterness of her own flashes across her face, just for a moment, but it is there.

“I have to go meet my Sisters soon.”

A bad feeling curls, dark and rotten, into the pit of your stomach.

“Come inside, Xena. You have a few hours yet…”

The longing on her face is naked and so strong it hurts to look at. She hugs herself tighter, turning away as she shakes her head (you see the shine of unshed tears, and the feeling in your stomach curdles further).

“See you at the violence,” she says, throwing your words back in your face and stepping off the porch, into the night.

 

////

 

Your world crumples around you, imploding like a dead star. Your sister is dead, and you are truly alone.

White hot rage flashes through you, burning away everything else.

“Run.” Your voice is a growl as you look upon the thing that was once a young woman, but will soon be a corpse.

“What?”

“Run. I am going to hunt, torture, and kill you. And it won’t be satisfying if it ends too quickly, so you need to run.”

She looks at you, face a mixture of sorrow and pride, and refuses your warning. Her fear rolls over you like a wave.

You have lost so much – too much, everything. You are sure her blood will taste amazing on your tongue.

Laura jumps between you, and it’s as if you were looking for an excuse not to rip out the Summer girl’s throat…

You turn to go, warning them all away. Danny’s hand reaches out, catching yours. Her eyes are large, full of tears and regret.

“She tried to kill me…”

You hate her for making you want to kill her and protect her at the same time.

“Stay away from me,” you warn again, a final time, because three is the magic number, and snatch your hand away.

You run until you forget that you don’t have to breathe, and collapse on the ground, gasping and retching and wanting nothing more than to be comforted by Mattie ( _or Laura or Danny_ , your mind whispers, treacherous).

There is no one left to save you from your thoughts, and you scream until your throat bleeds and your lungs rupture.

When that is done, you are hungry. There is a chanting nearby, and suddenly, it is clear what you must do.

 

////

 

“… well guess what? You didn’t come, and it did.” Laura’s voice is loud but empty, echoing hollowly in the cathedral of her mouth. “Danny’s dead.”

The world stops spinning for a moment, screeching to a halt. You feel as if you have been sucked out into the vacuum of space.

“What?” You barely have enough breath to whisper.

The Baron speaks and you stand, breathing shallow and dizzy with god’s blood and loss.

This can’t be happening. You came back. You came back for _them_ , goddamnit. They are not allowed to… she’s not allowed to go.

When the world starts spinning again, it is going too fast – an out of control carnival ride from hell.

You are too late. There  _is_ no  _later_.

You have never been so cold.


End file.
